Circle
by Yuki Scorpio
Summary: It all comes around.


Fuji stared into space, and dreamed.

* * *

Flower petals danced in the air, swirling, drifting, picked up by the wind, falling. When they finally touched the green tennis court, the contrast was sharp and wholly unnatural and would have made an interesting photographic composition. Then the wind whipped everything into the air once more, and Fuji pushed away the hair blown into his eyes and wished he had a camera. Not because of the cherry blossom, but of the boy standing on the other side of the tennis court, his gaze so sharp it cut through the space between them. This contrast was stronger: the intensity emanating from the boy, the hard line of the mouth against the fragile, soft petals, an immovable presence against something fleeting. 

"I will serve, then, Tezuka-kun."

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a little prince. He was not special; there were many princes, he was just another one. But the prince had an ambition: to become king. Most of the other princes did not care very much and those who did, bullied him. The others stood by and did nothing about it. 

There was one other little prince. He was quite special, but it had never crossed his mind to be king. He saw that ordinary prince get bullied and ran to tell on his brothers and everybody was punished, which made him smile happily. This prince did not do it because he felt righteous, only because he had his eyes on the other prince first.

* * *

Fuji was Tezuka's headache. So were Momoshiro and Kaidou, but Tezuka could deal with them by sending them running. Fuji was a different challenge altogether. Fuji served and they volleyed, and every return from Tezuka was considered as if he was playing chess. It made Fuji wonder how Tezuka would read a choose-your-own-adventure book. Tezuka would probably cheat, because he would only have things his way. Except, Tezuka, cheating? Unthinkable. 

Fuji said, "I am losing interest." Tezuka responded by making him play doubles.

Fuji said, "that's still boring." Tezuka cocked his head, looked at him and Fuji rejoiced in the fact that he had given Tezuka a new problem, more things to think about that would make him screw his eyebrows together and get wrinkles at teenage.

* * *

"That's not what I want!" Fuji growled and grabbed the lapels of Tezuka's shirt. Suddenly Tezuka's demeanour softened, and Fuji realised that was the first time they looked at each other full in the eye.

Pink petals fell around them, like snow. Fuji's anger dissipated when Tezuka apologised and he realised that Tezuka too, had wanted this game, because Fuji was not the only one who liked a challenge.

* * *

The little prince had kingly qualities. He excelled in the sword, in history and politics. He knew the lay of the kingdom and the surrounding lands like the back of his hand. He knew who the enemies were, and their strengths and weaknesses. It did not take long for everyone to see this. It took them longer to learn that the prince could do this not only because he was gifted, but he worked for it. 

The other little prince, the special one, smiled and stood around in the background. He would wait, until that prince forgot to watch out for him, then pounce on him unawares. Not that this special prince wanted to take the throne, he just thought it would be fun to poke a hole in the other prince's armour.

* * *

Echizen came along, a bright little boy, too snarky for Fuji's liking but apart from that, reminded Fuji a bit of Tezuka. Small, southpaw, breathed tennis, totally brilliant. Threatening and catalytic. Out of the corners of his eyes, Fuji saw Tezuka standing back, arms crossed over his chest, a hand secretly cradling the left elbow, waiting to see what would come out of this encounter. 

Fuji humoured Tezuka a little, and pretended he found what he needed in Echizen. And to a certain extent it was true, because Echizen was what Tezuka was, two years ago, the boy Fuji never got to play. But Echizen was not Tezuka and therefore, Fuji lost interest again.

Tezuka cocked his head again, looked at Fuji again, and said, "you have to be more serious about this."

Fuji cocked his head the other way, looked at Tezuka, and asked, "why?"

Tezuka sighed, and Fuji smiled. He had given Tezuka more to think about.

* * *

"Let's play again, when your elbow is better," Fuji offered. Disappointment was etched all over Tezuka's body, but his face remained calm and almost serene. Looking at him, Fuji had the urge to pet him on the shoulder and say that he was sorry, although none of this was his doing. 

Tezuka nodded, another apology on the edge of his lips, but Fuji suddenly stopped walking. "Fuji-kun?"

"Let's go and get ice-cream," said Fuji. He grabbed Tezuka's wrist and ran, his tennis bag bouncing against his back. "Ice-cream makes everything better."

* * *

He looked and looked, but he could not find a good place to poke that hole. The ordinary little prince was always so busy, the special little prince could not keep up. For half a day he could be in the reading room, learning strategies from volumes and volumes of books, then the other half at the yard, practising his sword until he ran out of opponents. 

After a while, the special little prince forgot his original purpose and just watched. What would it be like to work so hard? What would it be like to reach for the stars - could he, perhaps, do it too?

But with his head buried in books, the ordinary prince never paid attention to him, and he thought to himself: that was what made the difference. Some people were born to lead. Others were left to wonder what it would be like to stand in the very front, side-by-side with the leader.

* * *

Finally, Tezuka pitched him against Echizen. Fuji saw this coming, though playing tennis with Echizen incited more excitement than he initially imagined. Still, Echizen was not Tezuka. 

There was a point Tezuka wanted to get across, but it was like talking in a vacuum - all Fuji could hear was the sharp shrill of silence. When they talked afterwards, about dreams, and goals, Fuji did not dare to look at Tezuka in the eye anymore. Seigaku did not need him. But Tezuka still refused to let him go, and Fuji remembered that Tezuka loved a good challenge, even if it hurt him.

Fuji looked at him then, and asked, "why?"

Tezuka shrugged and gave him a towel to dry his hair.

* * *

"Fuji. Fuji Syusuke!" 

Fuji blinked a few times. "Yes." He stood.

"What is the answer to this question?"

He looked at the board. The teacher was pointing at one of the problems. "27.7m to three significant figures."

The teacher's face was beet red for not being able to catch out the daydreaming genius. Fuji sat back down and looked out the window again.

Where was he?

* * *

At some point, _Fuji-kun_ became _Fuji_, _Tezuka-kun_ became _Tezuka_. Tezuka also became the vice-captain, and then the captain. He had grown so tall that Fuji could no longer look at him without looking up. Fuji liked to laugh at him about it because he said he got terrible growing pains at night and wished he did not need new school uniform every few months. 

Fuji got a camera, so that he could photograph Tezuka on the tennis court.

* * *

It could only be Tezuka. Nobody else would go that far to make a point. In Fuji's mind's eye, Tezuka's shoulder was made of many, many little threads. Each time he returned the ball, a thread snapped under the tension. And another one, and another one, until Fuji was gripping the handrail so hard his knuckles were white and he wanted to shout, _stop it, I understand now!_

The threads snapped faster and faster, and Tezuka found the briefest moment to glance at the audience and look at him in the eye. Fuji understood. Tezuka - Seigaku - needed him.

When the day's matches were over, Fuji turned to Tezuka and asked, "want to go get an ice-cream?"

* * *

One day, the ordinary little prince approached the special little prince, and said, "let's run the kingdom together." 

"But you don't know me," the special one said, puzzled. "And you have already found an advisor."

"I know you. You are the special one. It is time to stop watching me and join me. I - the kingdom - need you."

At a loss for words, Fuji felt himself stop leaning against the castle wall. There was something more solid and immovable to lean on. He still wanted to poke holes in it, though. "You won't live long if you keep talking like the kingdom is already yours."

"It will be ours - if you join me."

And the ordinary little prince was crowned king.

* * *

The bell rang. Fuji glanced at the falling petals outside the window one last time, then put his books away, swung the bag over his shoulder and headed towards the tennis courts. 

When he got changed, Tezuka was already waiting. Fuji pulled out his camera and took a picture. Hearing the familiar shutter sound, Tezuka turned from looking at the cherry blossom to settle his gaze on Fuji. "What are you doing?" He cocked his head and asked, despite the obvious. Fuji shrugged and snapped a few more photos, to make sure he could remember, in case Tezuka ran ahead again, grew taller, became stronger before he realised.

But some things never changed. Cherry blossom on the tennis courts, petals getting caught in Tezuka's hair; the sharp gaze, that sense of presence. And then Fuji knew, since the very beginning, this ordinary prince was already king.

Tezuka let the head of his racket touch the ground. "Which?"

"Smooth."

Fingers twisted. The racket fell and Tezuka picked it up quickly. "Rough."

"Wait..." Not that Fuji minded very much, but that was definitely a smooth.

Tezuka... cheated?

Tezuka ignored the look on Fuji's face, and tugged out a yellow ball from his pocket. There was a rare hint of a smile in his eyes.

"My turn to serve, Fuji."


End file.
